


Kronos, Fear

by JustALilSnail



Series: 1000 Ways to Tell the Stoll Brothers Apart and I Can Name You One [29]
Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types
Genre: Dream Character Death, Emotional Manipulation, Gen, Mild Angst, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Nightmares, some prairie bashing and prairie loving
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-01
Updated: 2019-11-01
Packaged: 2021-01-16 12:35:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,292
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21271133
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JustALilSnail/pseuds/JustALilSnail
Summary: Kronos has always been an opportunist. He sees the seething hatred Luke has for his father and he can see the same seeds in the youngest. It’s something he can use. Something he can manipulate. He might as well add another to his ranks and rub salt in the wound. The Gods aren’t so willing to strike down their own children and they’re complete fools for that. Complete utter fools.





	Kronos, Fear

**Author's Note:**

> Chapters referenced: 28

# Kronos — Fear

Travis (13) - Connor (12)

September 2006

Post-the lightning thief 

* * *

_ Kronos has always been an opportunist. He sees the seething hatred for his father in Luke. And now he sees the same in the young brother. It’s something he can use. Something he can manipulate. The Gods aren’t so willing to strike down their own children and they’re complete fools for that. They place too much value on their children. Mortal children nonetheless with their laughable span of life. _

_ He took action as soon as he realized his children will be his demise, eating his children as they were born. Their lack of action is going to be their downfall. _

_ It is their downfall as he stares down at Hermes’s preferred son. _

_ One son hates him to the bitter bone. _

_ Let’s rub salt in the wound and add another. _

* * *

Connor doesn’t get many dreams.

Doesn’t even know the prophetic dreams Percy gets can happen to him too. He always thought he stuck low enough on the important-demigod radar to avoid those types of stuff. 

He guesses not, because he’s standing in a wide, endless field. The dead grass sways back and forth in the nonexistent wind, their prickly ends brushing against his waist. On the horizon, the sun is setting and making the sky a bright purple color. A sight worth a thousand pictures. 

It should be beautiful. It should be breathtaking, but all Connor feels is a sense of dread. 

“Travis?” he calls out, hesitantly. He doesn’t like the way his voice carries across the plains. “Are you here?” Because that makes sense. Even when he’s dreaming, Travis is always here with him. In every happy dream, every nightmare, Travis is there. But he didn’t hear his brother’s voice like he wanted, but another man’s. 

From behind. 

Connor twirls around, hand going for the knife he always keeps hidden on his waist. It isn’t there and he’s furious it isn’t there, because standing before him is Luke Castellan with his hands tucked in his hoodie’s pockets in an infuriating casual pose.

Anger bubbles in him and Connor hisses, “You got a lot of nerve, Luke, showing your face to us after what you did to Percy.” 

Luke sneers. His gold eyes — _ gold? _— twinkle with malice and when he speaks, it’s not Luke’s voice but another. Someone much, much older. 

“Spirited. I like that in a pawn.” 

“L...Luke?” Connor hates how small his voice sounds. He hates how he’s failing at pushing the ugly head of fear down. “Who are you?”

“You know who I am.”

Luke, no, Kro — the titan smiles, Luke’s scar twisting in a very, very scary way. Kronos takes a step towards him and okay. Connor has enough. It’s time to wake up. 

He wants to wake up. Please wake up, body. 

“Listen closely and follow my orders.”

He pinches himself, but the Titan is still in front of him. 

“I need another person on the inside. Someone who can sabotage the son of the Sea God’s plans.”

He covers his ears and squeezes his eyes shut, yelling as loud as he can but he can still hear the Titan talk. 

“Stop him from going on quests. Do whatever you need to do.” 

Why isn’t he waking up? He wants to wake up. Wake up. Wake up. _ Wake up, please. _

“Or you’ll face consequences, Connor Stoll.”

And it’s like every nightmare he ever had. 

There’s a chain around his ankle binding him to the ground. Travis is beside him, tugging on the chains and saying it will be okay. Everything will be fine. Don’t worry. Don’t cry. I’ll help you. I won’t leave you. Just leave it to me. 

But Luke is holding a gun. Then he’s raising the gun.

And Connor screams.

Tries to scream. 

Nothing comes out. 

He’s frozen. He’s too weak. He can’t help. He can’t do anything. 

Luke aims the gun at the back of Travis’s head. And like in every nightmare, Travis doesn’t notice the danger he’s in. He’s too occupied to notice the danger he’s in. He’s too focused on him to notice the danger at all. 

Connor tries one more time. To say something. But nothing comes out and he watches Luke presses the trigger and blows a hole straight through his brother’s skull. 

* * *

_ The child wakes up screaming in the empty cabin, the screams jolting the elder awake from his slumber. In mere seconds, the elder leaps down from his higher bed and is beside the younger with their celestial tinted Army Swiss knife in hand. _

“Connor?! Connor, what’s wrong?!”

_ The younger burrows himself in his brother’s arms, crying and blubbering as he recounts the dream. But at the end of the tale the elder only pats the younger’s head and gives a disgustingly warm smile. _

“Connor, it’s just a dream just like the others.”

“This is different! I can feel it. Kro—He really spoke to me.” 

“Oh. That’s scary. Hm. Do you think if we put a circle of salt around the bed, it’ll stop him?” 

“This is serious!”

“I am being serious.”

“Travis, I-I don’t want you to die.” 

“I’m not going to die. If he really wants to get you, I wouldn’t even be here right now. I should be locked in some cave somewhere, right? Like a hostage?” 

“I-I guess…let’s go break in the camp store and get some salt.” 

_ The fear he places is melting away and he curses. He tries again when the younger goes back to sleep and makes the death more gruesome, more vivid. Run over by a tank. Electrocuted in a torture chamber. Eaten alive by cyclops. Beheaded by friends. _

_ But it all ends the same. _

_ The younger wakes up, the elder offers some words, and then the fear dissolves. _

_ Night after night. Failure after failure. _

_ If to get one he needs both then so be it. _

* * *

Travis _ loves _ prairies. It’s where he finds his favorite animal, the meerkat! … did they live in prairies or was he thinking of Australia? Wait, he also loves ferrets and ferrets can be found in prairies too right? Or do they live in the woods? Note to self, ask Annabeth and Connor about this. Also prairies are super duper relaxing! It makes him want to build a cabin with a deck for stargazing.

“Travis Stoll.”

That’s the true life. Just kick back and enjoy the nice weather. 

“_ Travis Stoll. _”

Hmm, then again, Connor likes the city more. He probably won’t be very happy living in a rural area. And Travis has to admit cities have their advantages when it comes to food options. Oh wait, don’t prairies have a lot of grasshoppers and locusts? Connor would really hate living here. 

“Travis Stoll!”

He guesses a holographic projection would have to do. 

“For father’s sake, turn around!”

Travis jumps in surprise because he is 70% sure that was Luke’s voice and isn’t Luke evil now? Why is Luke talking to him? Did he mistake him for Connor again? Isn’t this the dream realm? Are their dream spirits similar too then that Luke got confused? No, no, no wait. Luke said his name. Luke knows he isn’t speaking with Connor. 

“Turn around!”

Is it his turn for the nightmares? Is Luke going to try and convince him? If he leads Luke on, will he leave Connor alone? Wait a second… how does he know this is the real deal and not just something his imagination cook up for an entertaining night? 

“Hey!”

A hand touches his back and Travis makes up his mind then, slamming his hands over his ears, closing his eyes, and singing as loud as he can.

“ALALALALA, I CAN’T HEAR YOU! I CAN’T HEAR YOU!”

And he really can’t. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! I love you all and wish you the best things for the last few months left in 2019. Hahaha exams are killing me!!
> 
> The reasonable part of my brain: it is best to have a consistent posting schedule so people can see you are reliable and not prone to leaving works on hiatus for weeks and/or months. 
> 
> My more louder, more convincing brain: Write as I go. Post as I go. Sleep


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